


Like Real People Do

by chasexjackson



Series: The Florist and the Punk [2]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, F/M, First Date, First Kiss, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Punk Percy, another trashy au I am not sorry, girly annabeth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 16:27:31
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6914635
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chasexjackson/pseuds/chasexjackson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Punk Percy takes Florist Annabeth on their first date. Dry humour and bad metaphors ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Real People Do

**Author's Note:**

  * For [flyingcrowbar](https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingcrowbar/gifts).



> A gift for the wonderful human that is Jane. Love you, my pal, continue being awesome.

Annabeth smoothed down the front of her striped dress, analysing herself in the dusty mirror in the back of the shop. It was too late to change now, as she’d agreed for Percy to pick her up from here and not her apartment, but she couldn’t help fretting over the details of her outfit.

She couldn’t help remembering that Percy was a famous rockstar and she was the owner of a small and insignificant flower shop. Couldn't help remembering that he had toured the world and she had never gone outside of Long Island. 

The bell out front chimed and Annabeth stole one last critical look in the warped mirror, sighing, before ducking out of the back room. Percy was gently closing the front door when she emerged. He looked far tidier than the last time she had seen him, three days ago in this very shop. He wore a white shirt (sleeves stuffed up over his elbows) with a stick slim cobalt tie (fastened in a way which looked both hasty and careless at once), skinny black jeans (holes leaving his scarred knees on show) and converses (blue laces on the left, pink on the right).

He looked hot.

Stupidly so.

“Hi,” she said, breathier than she would have liked.

Percy looked up, pushing the longer inky strands of hair out of his face as his chin tilted up. She watched as his eyes pulled wide and his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip. It was entrancing.

_ Enough, Annabeth _ .

“Hey there,” he replied. “You look gorgeous.”

Despite herself, she ducked her chin, smile threatening her lips. She swished the bottom of her dress like a preschooler and lifted her face.

“This old thing?”

“I feel underdressed.”

“Well, I  _ can _ see your knees.”

“I’ve been told I have very nice knees.”

“By whom?”

“People.”

“That’s very specific of you.”

His smile was alive.

There was no other way she could think to describe it. It pulled at the rest of his features like a real, living thing. Like a light had sparked beneath his skin and begged to be seen, burning out of the crevices of his eyes and mouth and the dimples on his cheeks.

Annabeth moved around the counter to meet him. “Do I need my jacket?”

He shook his head. “It’s warm out. Not enough to melt though.”

He was right. Summer is New York city could be unbearable, but this afternoon was full of gentle breezes and sunlight kissed to skin, caressing instead of blistering. Certainly warm enough to walk out  _ sans jacket _ . They walked side by side along the narrow sidewalk, neither hurried or dawdled, hands and arms tucked neatly into their own spaces.

It had taken Annabeth by surprise when Percy asked her out before leaving the shop less than a week ago. After hiding out behind her counter from a group of mildly terrifying school girls, she had expected him to flee without another word. But he had grasped the bunch of flowers she had assembled for his mother and hovered by the door, glancing uncertainly at her. Then he had left.

Then, thirty seconds later, during which Annabeth had wondered if she’d just missed a great big path in her life, the door had burst open again, bringing Percy Jackson back into her life. And he had asked her out.

He had done it out of breath with colour in his cheeks (from running or nerves, she wasn’t sure) and hope in his voice which she couldn’t ignore.  _ Pick me up here at five o’clock on Saturday _ , she’d told him.

And he had.

She was so infinitely glad that he had.

“So,” he said after a block, “are you leading me or am I leading you?”

Annabeth raised an eyebrow at him. “What would you rather?”

He shrugged. “I feel like you'd be better at leading than me.”

“Not many guys would admit to that.”

His mouth quirked. “So where are you taking me?”

Annabeth squared her shoulders. “You'll see.”

“A surprise? How exciting!”

“Don't get your hopes up too much. I'm sure I don't have as many connections as you do to take you on an obscure date.”

“I don't have connections. I'm a loner.”

“Pft.”

“Don't pft me. I'm serious. My most recent calls are to my mom and my two best friends. I spent my last four Saturday nights in a row watching SNL in my underwear.”

“What a riveting insight into your life.”

He raised one long finger at her. “You can take that to the papers.”

She tucked a smile away. “I think I’ll keep it to myself until I get something more juicy.”

He slid his hand back into his pocket and threw a sideways grin at her. “Ah, I see. There’s a carefully constructed plan.”

“I never go anywhere without one.”

“I’d hope not. So what’s the rest of it?”

“If I told you then it wouldn’t work.”

There was something about his smile that caught Annabeth off guard. Like that look he gave her in the shop.  _ Alive _ . He was all at once mischievous and sincere. She felt warm all over.

“So you’re tricking me,” he said, still smiling.

She managed to purse her lips and look away from him. “ _ Tricking _ is such a strong word.”

A laugh burst out of him. Just one.  _ Hah! _ Shocked and amused at once. “What would you prefer?  _ Scheming? Deceiving? _ ”

“I’m glad your opinions of me are so high.”

He grinned at her because he knew she was joking. She was glad he did, she was glad to find someone who could keep up with her, who didn’t frown and balk at her dry tongue.

“Truly, they are.”

Which totally made her blush because,  _ come on _ . He said it so easily, something would could have been a  _ line _ for so many guys, dripping with an intense stare and a smirking mouth. But Percy just tossed it out like it took nothing from him to do so. She liked that.

“We’re here,” she told him.

Percy stopped next to her on the sidewalk and looked amicably at the restaurant squeezed into the block of tall buildings. It was small, and didn’t look like much on the outside, but Annabeth loved it. She was worried though, that Percy wouldn’t. He didn’t strike her as the type to put his nose up to places like this, despite his fame and fortune, but she didn’t know him yet.

Yet.

She liked that word.

“Looks perfect. Far better than my choice for this evening.”

“Well, maybe we can go there next time.”

She only checked her words after they’d left her mouth and felt her ears get furiously hot as she waited for Percy to speak. He just smiled.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Annabeth’s heart settled in her chest. “I do like a plan.”

Inside the restaurant was a comfortable sort of loud. With old music falling out from unseen speakers and the close walls and ceiling trapping in the volume of its residents’ conversations. A waitress met them at the front stand and led them past already full tables to their own table. Percy walked just behind Annabeth, keeping his head ducked but glancing this way and that at the framed photographs on the brick walls, the strung up fairy lights on exposed beams, the flowers held in mason jars, the stacks of unopened ancient wine behind the bar.

They were escorted to their table, a quiet round thing tucked into a corner. Just out of reach of the bustle of the rest of the room, but close enough to be involved in the noise. Annabeth tucked her dress to her legs as she sat down opposite Percy. They ordered drinks (beer for Percy, white wine for Annabeth) and were left with time to consult their menus. Percy cast another long look around them, visibly breathing it all in, and Annabeth took the opportunity to take a long look at him.

He had a black stud in each earlobe, an undercut which left a strip of black tangled hair on top of his head, and an intricate tattoo peeking out of his shirt collar and ending at his left wrist. On his neck she saw the tips of dark waves. From his elbow to his wrist was a jumble of intricate colour, patterns wrapping over one another as if caught in a battle for dominance. Whirlpools and black stars and bared teeth of unknown animals. It was dark and captivating and she wanted to see more of it. Wanted to peel back his clothes and trace the inked lines with her fingers.

Percy’s right hand came up to rest on his forearm and she looked up at his face, knowing that he’d caught her staring. His face was open, nervous.

“It’s a lot, I know.”

“I like it,” she told him.

He blinked at her and she watched a smile crept over his face. “I started it when I was sixteen. I thought my mom was gonna kill me when I got the first one.”

Annabeth laughed. “What did you start with?”

He flipped his wrist over, baring the inside of his forearm to her, and pointed to a spot below his elbow. “A trident, just here. Don’t ask me why. You can just about see it still, but I got it mostly blended and covered ’cause it wasn’t done that well.”

Annabeth lifted a hand to touch where he was pointing but thought better of it, glancing up at his face as she hesitated. Percy nodded and slid his arm closer to her. Carefully, she placed her index finger on the skin of his forearm, just below the crease of his elbow, where he had pointed. His skin was warm and surprisingly soft where she had expected it to be rough under the tattoo. Her pale gold nail varnish stood out starkly against the deep colours painting his arm and she found herself watching her own fingers exploring the patterns there. She traced the thick lines of the trident he had pointed to, camouflaged by newer, more intricate shapes, dipped over a halo of rocks around a swirling planet, and followed a constellation of stars down to his wrist. She rested her fingers there a moment, feeling his pulse jump beneath her fingertips before pulling away.

“It’s amazing,” she told him, honestly.

He swallowed. “Thanks.”

“Are you ready to order?” their waitress asked, appearing at the table as if out of nowhere.

Annabeth felt her face flush with heat as she pictured she and Percy from the outside, leaning over the table towards each other as she traced his arm with her fingers.  _ Intimate _ , was the word that sprang to mind.

She cleared her throat, scrambling for her menu. “Not yet, sorry.”

“That’s alright.” The waitress smiled pleasantly. “I’ll come back in a few minutes.”

Annabeth glanced up and found Percy intensely consulting his own menu. She cast her eyes back to her own, barely reading the words on the laminated card. Which was fine, because she frequented this place so often that she could recite the menu if she wanted to.

She pretended to peruse the options for a while longer as Percy stared intently at his own menu, tapping his foot on the floor next to hers. She bit down a smile.

“What are you thinking of getting?” she asked him.

He looked up, bottom lip bitten between his teeth. With his skin stretched that way, she could see a small mark where a piercing used to be beneath his lip. The image of a younger Percy with a lip ring took over her imagination.

“Not sure. What’s good?”

“Everything.”

He rolled his eyes. “What are you getting?”

“The swordfish.”

“Huh.”

He looked down at his menu again.

“The chilli is real good,” she suggests.

He slaps his menu down, decided. “I’ll get the chilli then.”

“It’s hot.”

For the first time, his smile grows something close to an arrogant smirk. “I can handle it.”

Percy could not handle it. Annabeth could see beads of sweat collecting at his hairline and watched as he tugged on his shirt collar, pulling the already messy knot of his tie into even more of a disaster. He swallowed his mouthful of chilli and took a large gulp of water. Annabeth dabbed her napkin to her mouth and cleared her throat.

“How is it?” she asked mildly.

Percy nodded. “It’s great.”

“Not too spicey?”

He looked up and kept her gaze for a moment before leaning back in his seat, shaking his head as he laughed quietly. “I swear to god, I can actually be tough.”

She returned his laugh and leaned forward, resting her arms on the table around her plate. “When I first saw you I thought you’d be an untouchable asshole. I like that you’re proving me wrong.”

Percy’s smile was shy enough to look endearing. He lifted an eyebrow at her. “By failing to eat hot food?”

She shrugged. “By not trying to hide that you’re failing.”

“Oh, I tried to hide it a little bit.”

She smiled. “A little bit is forgivable.”

_ I value honesty _ , was what she was trying to convey to him. She hoped he understood. She thought he would, he seemed like a pretty perceptive guy to her.

She prodded some salad onto her fork and shifted her plate towards the middle of the table. “You wanna try some?”

She shook his head. “I don’t really eat fish, but thanks.”

“I feel bad.”

“Don’t be stupid. I’m the one who ordered the chilli when you warned me it was gonna be hot.”

“Still.”

He laughed and reached over to grab a piece of rocket from her plate. He put it in his mouth and chewed slowly. “Happy?”

Annabeth rolled her eyes and watched as Percy powered through the rest of his chilli with an impressive sort of determination.

When he was finished, he threw down his napkin and sat back in his chair with a dramatic sigh through his lips. Annabeth finished the last of her fish and wiped her hands and mouth with her napkin before placing it next to her plate.

“How’re you doing over there?” she asked him.

“Just swell, thanks.”

“You want a drink? I’m sure they’d give you some milk if you asked.”

“Milk?”

“It’s great for calming down a spicey mouth.”

“Oh, then yes please. I’ll take one of those, or maybe four.”

Annabeth chuckled as she leaned back to catch one of the waitress’ eye. Percy chugged the entire glass barely a moment after it was set down in front of him. He slammed it down like a shot glass and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Better?” she asked with some amusement.

He sighed. “So much.”

“Okay, so you don’t so spicey food, noted. Tell me something else about you.”

He raised an eyebrow at her. “Isn’t it your turn?”

She sighed dramatically. “Fine.” She tapped her chin as she thought. “I don’t like bananas.”

Percy nodded thoughtfully like she’d just given a compelling argument in a debate. “Okay. I cried when I got my first tattoo.”

She stifled a laugh. “Seriously?”

“Yeah, it hurt like a bitch.”

She laughed. “Oh, god. Okay. I’m terrified of spiders. Like, I will not go into a room if there’s one in there. I can’t deal with it.”

“Interesting. I’m missing part of my little toe after a drum fell on it, back in the day when we had to move our own stuff.”

“Which one?”

“Left.”

“Oh my god. Does it make you unbalanced?” she teased.

“It’s like half an inch. I can barely notice it.”

“Half an inch can make a big difference.”

His dark eyebrows pull up but he doesn’t comment. “Your turn,” he prompts instead.

“I can’t swim.”

“What?! I’m gonna teach you.”

She was suddenly overwhelmed by an image of a shirtless Percy dripping with water and supporting her with firm hands on her body.

“I might take you up on that.”

He nodded seriously. “I didn’t learn to tell the time until I was eleven.”

Annabeth, who had been completing eighth grade calculus when she was eleven, found this difficult to grasp. “I’m dyslexic,” she told him.

A slow smile curved his mouth. “Me too. Music is about the only thing I don’t have trouble reading.”

“When did you start playing guitar?”

“My dad taught me when I was little, but I started playing bass when I was fourteen. It was sort of the only thing which kept me on track. I wasn’t a great student.”

She gave him a quiet smile. “You really are a troublemaker.”

He ducked his chin, a surprisingly endearing response which kept her looking at him for a moment too long. “I don’t know about that.”

“You were close with your dad?” she asked, feeling dangerously close to probing too far. She was worried he might throw a wall up between them soon, but she couldn’t help herself. She wanted to know more, more.

He looked up through long lashes and nodded somberly. “I was. He passed away when I was nine.”

She reached across the table to touch his hand, grazing her fingers over his knuckles. “I’m sorry.”

The side of his mouth quirked up. “Still got my mom. She’s the best. What about your family?”

Annabeth felt a pinch in her gut. She looked down, pulling her hand back to her side of the table. “I have two step-brothers, they’re eighteen. They live with my dad and step-mom in San Francisco. And a half brother, he lives in the city.”

Percy nodded, biting his lip. “And your mom?” he asked carefully. She sensed that he too, worried about stepping over a line.

Annabeth shook her head. “I’ve only met her a couple of times. She...travels a lot.”

“Sucks, I’m sorry.”

Annabeth nodded. “I don’t like peanut butter.”

“What?!”

She grinned. “I know.”

“Oh man, does that mean you’ve been deprived of the simple glory of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich?”

“It does. And for the record, that sounds revolting.”

“Dude. No.”

“Dude. Yes. Nothing and no one will convince me otherwise.”

“I can be very convincing.”

The words,  _ I bet you can _ , lay on her tongue. 

“Are you guys finished?”

Annabeth was once again startled by the sudden presence of their waitress. She was usually a very perceptive person. It was only as she sat back in her seat to allow the waitress to take their empty plates that she realised how far over the table she and Percy had been leaning. 

“Would you like to look at the dessert menu?”

They did. Annabeth ordered a creme brûlée while Percy chose the hot chocolate fudge cake and proceeded to get it smeared around his mouth. 

“Good?” Annabeth asks him, smiling as she dabs the corner of her mouth with her napkin. 

Percy mirrors her movement with less delicacy and grins at her. “Fucking devine.”

“We should get the bill.”

Percy's grin slipped into something more sincere. He chewed on his bottom lip as he visibly worked over how to approach this. 

“I'd like to pay it if that's alright?”

It was a peculiar sort of question, but one she realised she appreciated. She inclined her head. “I'll pay for the next one.”

His smile widened. 

By the time they left the restaurant, it was much darker out, leaving the pale street lamps to light their way and a slightly too chilly breeze without a jacket. Nonetheless, Annabeth was in no hurry to get home. She rubbed her hands over her bare arms, feeling the goosebumps pebbled there. 

“Now I wish I'd worn a jacket so I could show you how much of a gentleman I am.”

Annabeth snorted. “It's fine. I already know. You're walking me home after all.”

Percy tipped his head. “My momma raised me right.”

“She sounds pretty awesome.”

His smile said more than any words could. “She really is. Don’t know what I’d do without her.”

“Did she like her flowers?”

He turned his head to smile at her. “She loved them. I hope I can give her some more soon.”

“I might even be able to give you a discount. I know how stretched you are for cash.”

He took her teasing like a poke in the side, ducking his half smile behind a shrugged shoulder. Annabeth had to move closer to him to allow a bicycle to pass them on the narrow path. She had routed them through the park, though she didn’t strictly have to. When the bike had passed, she didn’t move away from Percy. He smelled like chilli and chocolate and aftershave. 

“So did you grow up in California?”

She shook her head. “Manhattan born and raised. My dad and step-mom moved us to San Francisco when I was little but I always hated it. My brother, Malcolm, was here and so were my friends. I ran away a bunch of times before my dad finally agreed to send me to a boarding school here.”

Percy gaped at her a little. “You ran away? How old were you?”

She shrugged. “About seven. I started boarding school when I was eleven.”

Annabeth felt a curious warmth in her chest as she told him this, replacing the sinking tug of anxiety in her gut that opening up like this might usually bring. Percy nudged her lightly with his elbow, giving her a wry smirk, and she felt all at once relieved to have told him this. Not stripped of these personal details, but lighter, for sharing them.

“I did boarding school for a few years,” he tells her.

“Oh yeah?”

“Ten to fourteen.”

“Oh man, so you did mainstream high school?”

He grimaces theatrically for her benefit. “Yep. It was brutal. I channel memories from those years into my practices brooding look.”

A laugh burst free of her without permission, filling up her chest and spilling over onto her face. “It is a very convincing look.”

He looked at her sideways and she tucked her smile away, leaning against his shoulder just lightly, for a moment, before stepping back into her own space. They made the rest of the walk in this proximity, not close enough to touch, but close enough for her to feel his warmth and smell his skin and want more.

“This is me,” she said eventually, regretfully.

Percy craned his head back to gaze up at her building. A perfectly average tall brick building nestled into the rest of the city block. Flower boxes sat on the edge of windows, light spilled out from others. Annabeth could see her own living room window on the fourth floor, dark and expectant.

She let her gaze fall back to Percy and found that he was watching her too. Eyes open and honest, along with the rest of him. He stood like he had in the shop when he’d picked her up; feet apart, fingers nestled into pockets, shoulders wide. His tongue darted out to cover his bottom lip briefly and like before, Annabeth’s pulse spiked.

“So did you gather all your intel?” he asked her.

She was momentarily thrown until their earlier conversation reframed itself in her mind. She took a step towards him and shrugged nonchalantly. “I think I need to do a little more digging.”

“Oh yeah?” He took a step closer too, bringing them toe to toe. Annabeth could feel his breath on her skin.

When Annabeth kissed him, she tasted the chocolate on his tongue, she felt the soft fabric of his shirt under her palm, the thrum of his heart, in tandem with hers. She felt like she was standing in a rainstorm, every part of her skin alive and present and aching.

And then he was pulling away, not entirely, just to rest his forehead against hers. Annabeth felt his hands at her waist and his chest against hers and his breath on her mouth. She could still taste chocolate.

Slowly, she withdrew her arms from where they’d clasped around his shoulders, and stepped away from him. Percy’s cheeks were pink and beautiful, his smile was shy and she wanted to kiss it again.

“We should do this again,” she informed him.

His eyebrow pulled up. “We should.”

“There’s a lot more information I need.”

He grinned. “It’s my choice next time, right?”

She nodded.

“Can you do Tuesday evening?”

She nodded again.

“Perfect.”

“Do I need to wear anything specific?”

“Hopefully something like what you’re wearing now?” His voice was hopeful.

She smirked, pulling her keys from her purse as she stepped up to the door of her building. “I’ll do my best.”

“And I’ll do mine.”

She watched him back away, hands tucked into pockets, smile tucked into the corner of his mouth. Then she made herself turn away and open her front door. She closed it after herself and leaned back against it with a thud. Hand clasped to her chest, grin uncontrollably wide. She felt giddy, full and bubbly and light all at once. 

She couldn’t wait until Tuesday.


End file.
